With Purim only a week away, Rabbis are coming out of the woodwork with rulings on a whole variety of issues relating to the full and proper observance of the day. But none have made the news as prominently as Israel’s (the world’s?) leading Sephardic jurist/halakhist, Rabbi Ovadia Yosef. When this sage, commonly known as Rav Ovadia, speaks, its news. This past Saturday night was no exception. That’s why his comments in a lecture about how to read the Megillah (Biblical Book of Esther) made all of the Israeli papers on Sunday.

What did he say that was so newsworthy? That Women, under limited circumstances, could read the scroll for both men and women, and that such a reading would allow both to fulfill their obligation to hear the scroll read on Purim. This ruling will surely have most people horrified that such a debate is even happening in the 21st century. And it will leave a minority of others equally horrified at what they deem to be the rabbi’s departure from the correct interpretation of the law which, in their eyes, prohibits women from taking such public religious leadership roles.
The debate among a group of my own friends mirrors that reality perfectly. And it points the way to considering how endless debate about doctrine divides people from each other at just the moments that they should be coming together. This trend in religion is hardly new or unique to Judaism. But in a world of increasing divisiveness, often using religious difference for cover, this story provides a good opportunity to heal what hurts so many people – the use of religion to prove ourselves right, instead of empowering us to be more caring and loving toward others.
One of the parties to the debate commented that the reason why it has taken so long for Orthodox authorities like Rabbi Yosef Karo, upon whom Rav Ovadia relies in on order to reach this conclusion, is that in general, Jewish law seeks to “keep its foot on women’s necks”.

And before anyone either cheers or jeers at that formulation, let’s ask why we need to make ugly assumptions about those with whom we disagree, in order to bolster our own position. That, more than any given conclusion which any community reaches, is what demeans the entire religious apparatus.
Let me be clear: I was not waiting for this Rabbis ruling, even though I am an Orthodox rabbi. In fact, our eldest daughter’s Bat Mitzvah, three Purims ago, was centered on her reading of the Megillah for both men and women. And in the interest of full disclosure, my own brother went to an earlier service before attending the Bat Mitzvah because he did not accept the permissibility of her reading for him.
Was it a problem? Not for us. That’s what it means to believe that good people can disagree about how to practice their faith without resorting to claims about either misogyny or the abandonment of the tradition. Why do we need to unfairly denigrate those who came before us, or currently differ from us, in order to shore up the positions we take?
Nobody wants to admit that we all go shopping for the footnotes we need to meet the religious posture with which we can live. That’s actually what binds us together and realizing that could provide incredible social and religious cohesion in the face of the widely divergent practices which are never going away. If everybody were honest about that and could maintain that honesty without becoming cynical about it, we would all be a great deal better off.
In other words, stop bickering, wish each other a happy Purim, tell the story, eat a good meal with friends, get a little wasted and take care of those w/o the means to accomplish those things (all practices associated with the full observance of the holiday). Everyone from Reform leader, Rabbi Eric Yoffe to Rav Ovadiah could live with that. So should we.